


I'll Just Get Lost With You

by catholicschoolgirl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angel!Zayn, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, This is as close to fluff as I get, stupid human!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:43:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catholicschoolgirl/pseuds/catholicschoolgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"His beauty transcended the limitations of any human, was so ethereal and otherworldly that Harry couldn't help but think he must be an angel."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Just Get Lost With You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jadziadrgnrdr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadziadrgnrdr/gifts).



> Sooo Fee and Crystal were both doubting their writing abilities and to get them to CUT IT OUT I offered them both fic lol. This one is for Crystal, whose request was: "Harry is a human squire who gets separated from a royal caravan and attacked by some creature and the Elf (some other beautiful mythic creature) scout saves them and they fuck. bottom!Zayn please! and hurt/comfort and heroic/beautiful Zayn” I didn't really follow your directions to the letter because I always need to put a weird twist on things, but I hope you like this anyway!

_We don't know where to go, so I'll just get lost with you_

Demi Lovato, Two Pieces

 

Harry wasn't sure how many days he had been lost, only that it was long enough that his favorite pair of sandals, an ornately crafted and expensive gift, had long split down the center and Harry had to abandon them next to the riverbed, donning only his pattens until even those proved to be too uncomfortable. Harry had never truly gone barefoot through the mud before, had never even gone outside without his chaperon and all of the other markers of a man of his class, and he knew that he must be a sight – hair long, tangled and wild, wearing only his linen undershirt and breeches because it was simply _too hot_ even despite the darkness to have so many layers on.

Luckily Harry wasn't completely useless in the wild – he was a squire, after all, even if the faerie knight he was sworn to, Louis, often jokingly complained that he would better off having a roost of chickens than the lot of humans he had assembled over the years. That's where Harry had been heading to – back to Louis' property in the Eastern kingdom – when they had been attacked. Their defense had been pitiful, a small part of Harry was grateful that Louis was a few days ahead of them so he didn't see how quickly his squires scattered under the deluge of arrows coming from the creek bank. Harry had ran straight into the woods like an idiot child and was immediately sucked into the darkness, losing track of his kinsmen, his horse, and apparently all sense of time. He did, however, stumble upon the Ælfwine River and knew that it eventually had to cross with the main path, at which point he could double back toward Louis' property. Harry also knew that he had had about a week's worth of grains on his person when he went ducking into the forest and had eaten less than half of it, so he was certain he would eventually be all right, especially as Harry had been collecting asparagus and watercress in the hood of his chaperon as he stumbled across them. Harry was getting a little nervous, though – he had left his sword with his horse and only had a stiletto and had yet to come across anyone or anything – human, faerie, dwarf, or otherwise. The quiet was making him anxious. It was simply too still, almost as if Harry was suspended in an impenetrable darkness that gave no mind to such low, human things as the passage of time.

Harry sighed and it seemed to echo through the woods as he plopped down along the riverbank and thrust his feet into the cool, clear water. His soles were caked with mud, and Harry groaned as he scraped dirt off against a smooth rock on the shore, the movement temporarily obscuring the beautiful clarity of the river. But it was eerie. Harry hadn't even seen a trout during all of this endless, mindless wandering. Were these woods cursed? Harry could not recall any tales of bedeviled lands near Louis' property, was sure that he would remember campfire stories from his youth, whisperings in the kitchens among the dwarf caretakers who had tended to Harry during his boyhood, but that did not mean things could have changed in the years of service abroad in distant lands. Perhaps Harry had stumbled into something bigger than himself. It wouldn't be the first time.

Harry sensed the growling before he even heard it, a trembling that resonated through his bones and which immediately had him gripping his stiletto in a sweaty palm. Harry looked to his left and right, his senses sharpening, but cursed to himself when he found that he could hardly see more than a few yards in any particular direction. The darkness was suffocating, and whichever creature was lurking in it knew it far better than Harry could ever dream, was intimately familiar with its power and used it to its advantage. The growling continued and seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at all, even as it crept closer, heavy, thundering footsteps that had Harry cursing his stupidity. It was only when the beast let out its signature cry that Harry was able to identify it for what it was – a Wyvern, a two-legged dragon, undomesticated like the ones Harry had seen in his travels and not at all native to this region of the kingdom. Harry only gave himself a moment to wonder how such a monster had found its new home in these woods before he braced himself for incoming attack, holding the stiletto close to his chest and narrowing his eyes. 

But the attack didn't come, the Wyvern instead letting out a ghastly shriek as it finally came into Harry's line of sight, stumbling on large, lumbering feet as it crashed into the riverbank, dousing Harry with water that had been tinged red with the beast's blood. It was only then that Harry noticed the series of arrows piercing the animal's thick, scaly back, and then beyond the beast to the absolutely beautiful being standing on the other side of the bank, wearing only breeches and a simple shift shirt that did nothing to hide the swirling designs on his arms and chest, bow still in hand as he looked fiercely at Harry.

Harry had been in the service of faeries nearly all of his life, the best option for the sons of humans next to priesthood, had been raised by dwarfs and had been exposed to a whole host of creatures during his travels as a squire, but Harry could not find the word in his vocabulary to describe the being in front of him. His beauty transcended the limitations of any human, was so ethereal and otherworldly that Harry couldn't help but think he must be an angel. 

Harry had never seen one, but he knew they existed, had heard Niall, one of his fellow squires and his best friend in the service, describe his encounter with one as a child from the Southern Kingdom. “Just awe-inspiringly beautiful, Harry,” Niall had said, popping nuts into his mouth as they had packed up their horses for another long adventure. “I almost couldn't look at him. Smooth skin, curly chestnut hair, and eyes that gleamed in the darkness. And he saved me from drowning in that well, pulled me up with one arm like I was weightless.” Niall had gotten lost in his memory, his eyes taking on a faraway quality as he reminisced. “And then he just shook his head at me, clucked his tongue and called me, 'Stupid human child.' Led me back to me dad's, laughing at me the whole walk home, and then it was gone, just like that. Time and space doesn't affect them the way it does us, but me dad always said that getting saved by one is the ultimate blessing – it takes a lot for them to interfere in human affairs. And sometimes I feel like he's still watching over me, keeping me safe, even now that I'm so far from home. Liam – that's what he said he called himself. Sometimes they take on human projects, are like patrons, almost.”

It had been a good story, but Harry had never really paid it much mind beyond its initial telling, had never thought that he might see an angel himself. But what else could this being be, with his smooth, tanned skin, short, shockingly dark hair, and hazel eyes that sparkled in the darkness, especially when he lowered his bow, clucked his tongue at Harry and muttered, seemingly half to himself, “ _Stupid_ human.”

Harry put his stiletto back into his breeches, pushed his wet hair away from his face and cleared his throat, intending to launch into an eloquent, chivalrous proclamation of his gratitude for this being that had saved his life. Instead, he blurted out, “Oh my God, you're gorgeous.”

The being simply stared and then he was right next to Harry, moving so quickly and fluidly across the water that he didn't even disturb the gentle motion of the river. Harry couldn't help the startled little yelp that spilled from his lips. “What's your name, human?”

“H-Harry,” Harry answered.

“Harry,” the being said. “You are a foolish little human, Harry, stumbling into these woods with neigh a weapon. Where are your people?”

“I lost them,” Harry replied. “But I'm a squire for the Tomlinson family.”

“Those silly little faeries in the meadow?” the being asked, pulling a face. “That's another two day walk on tired human feet.”

Harry just smiled at the being. “Can't you just – fly me over there?”

The being rolled his eyes. “I do not fly, Harry. Do I look like I have wings?”

Harry frowned. “Aren't you not an angel? Do angels not fly?”

“Full Angels of the Southern Realm, perhaps,” the being said. “My mother was one, but my father was an Elf, an expert bowman, and I grew up with his family in these woods. You would not know about these things, human.”

“If we have two days walk to the Tomlinson property, maybe you could tell me about these things I know nothing about,” Harry said, trying on his most charming smile. “Starting with what you call yourself?”

The being laughed, his voice like wind chimes through the dark woods. “You are a presumptuous human, Harry. I said nothing about accompanying you to your people, but you seem like enjoyable company, so I do not think I should find it a burden. My name is Zayn.” 

“Zayn,” Harry repeated, and Zayn smiled, his eyes like the cool whiskey Louis had once given him when he was sick with a fever. Harry was feeling just as hot and uncomfortable now, so enthralled by Zayn's beauty, by his heroism saving Harry from certain death in these stilted woods, that he wasn't sure how he was going to make it two days without begging for Zayn to take him along the riverbank. So instead Harry coughed awkwardly, gestured for Zayn to lead the way, and picked up his hood and followed Zayn as he made his way toward the Tomlinson property.

 

Harry made it through that first night and most of the subsequent day before finally getting the opportunity few humans are ever offered.

The darkness had long since lifted and creatures were beginning to return to the woods, the area lighting up with rays of sunshine and the soft songs of birds lifting Harry's spirits. Zayn had suggested that Harry rest upon the riverbank before he wandered into the water himself, standing knee-deep before reaching into the waves and pulling out a small trout. Zayn started a small fire and then gutted the fish with his own dagger, browning the trout over the fire and making a small but hearty meal with Harry's collection of vegetables and grains. Harry accepted the meal gratefully, cupping handfuls of water and sighing in contentment. 

“Do you even eat?” Harry asked. They had been playing a game of question-and-answer, so Harry now knew that Zayn had three sisters who also lived in the woods, and that Zayn had left them several days ago to go hunting for the beast that had scared off all of the other creatures that had once made the woods their home. Harry also knew that Zayn was a master storyteller and minstrel, and that he had traveled far and wide over the years, even though Zayn insisted that he was young by both angel and elven standards.

“I do not eat in the sense that you do,” Zayn answered. “We gain sustenance through our good works. We are caretakers of land, of beings. When our charges are doing well, when the world is in balance, we do well. When the land is sick, we are sick.”

“Do you sleep?” Harry replied.

“Yes.”

“Do you dream?”

“As you do.”

Harry looked up at Zayn, smiling his most innocent smile when he asked, “Do you fuck?”

Zayn laughed, the laugh that still sounded like wind chimes. “Obviously. But perhaps that's not what you are really asking.”

“Perhaps,” Harry acknowledged with a small gulp. “Would you fuck me?”

“Maybe that's not what I want,” Zayn replied easily, walking to stand in front of Harry and taking Harry's face in his hands. Zayn's palms were warmer than any human's, and a barely restrained energy thrummed through his fingertips, almost like he gained strength through all living things around him and was channeling it back into Harry. He was just so beautiful, but it wasn't like what Niall said – it didn't hurt for Harry to look at him. Harry just felt drunk off of it, gangling, awkward and stupid like a yearling. 

“W-what do you want, Zayn?” Harry somehow managed to stutter out.

“For you to take me, you naive human,” Zayn grinned. “Why else do you think I saved you and offered to walk you home?” 

Harry didn't need to be told twice, cupping his hands around Zayn's slender hips and bringing him to sit on Harry's lap, their faces tilting and lips meeting together in one shared gasp. Zayn tasted sweeter than any berry, his arms coming to wrap around Harry's neck, and Harry swallowed down Zayn's soft moans with the eagerness of a starving man. Harry kept trying to bring Zayn closer, fingers digging into his skin so hard that he was sure Zayn's ethereal skin was purpling under his ministrations, and Harry needed to check, throwing off Zayn's shift top and moaning at the bruises on Zayn's hips, the way Zayn's cock was swelling against Harry's. 

“Didn't know an angel could bruise,” Harry mumbled, pressing his fingers back against the marks on Zayn's skin before licking across the swirling designs on Zayn's chest. 

“Only half an angel,” Zayn replied, his hips bucking as Harry brought his hands up to run his nails across Zayn's nipples. “Not immortal. Can bruise, can bleed, can come.”

“Even if you were immortal, I would _still_ want you to stay with me forever,” Harry admitted, knowing full well how ridiculous he sounded in this moment. Zayn laughed, saying something that sounded a lot like, “Stupid, childish human,” but he let Harry take off his breeches anyway, Harry releasing a moan as he took in Zayn in all of his naked glory – his honey colored skin, the ancient ink decorating his body, his thick, leaking cock where it curved up against his belly. Harry wanted to ask a million more questions, wanted to know everything about this being who had saved him, but he figured there was plenty of time for all of that, a whole lifetime's worth, so instead he fell to his knees, spitting along Zayn's length and taking him into his mouth with a contented sigh. Harry worked Zayn long and slow, watched as Zayn's thighs began to tremble, memorized Zayn's increasingly labored pants, grinned as Zayn carded his hands through Harry's hair and mumbled soft, soothing words that Harry didn't recognize, before gently pulling Harry off, saying, “Wash your hands in the riverbed, and then come back to me.”

Harry nodded, swallowing down the salty taste of Zayn's precome, and did what he was told, scrubbing his hands against the sand and then returning to Zayn, who had since laid himself out across his clothes, and was sticking three fingers into his mouth, coating them with saliva. “I want you to watch me,” Zayn said. Harry nodded, crouching in front of Zayn as he danced his fingers over his own abs and rested them behind his scrotum, pushing his index finger into himself with one long, slow motion that made him hiccup out a moan. Harry watched raptly as Zayn fucked into himself, fingering himself slowly, almost teasingly, the only sounds Harry could hear being the crashing of the river against its bank, the sweet chatter of swifts and hummingbirds, and Zayn's even sweeter exhales. Harry was tortuously aroused, his cock tenting his breeches, but he restrained himself from doing more than watching, from doing anything beyond committing to memory the way Zayn touched himself so that he could bring the same rapturous expression to Zayn's face. 

An eternity seemed to pass before Zayn was ready, removing his fingers with a slick, obscene noise, but then he was beckoning Harry over to him, Harry shucking off his own clothes with hands that were suddenly stuttering, unsure. Zayn laughed at Harry, but it wasn't meanly, seemingly fond. Harry almost asked, “Can angels find humans endearing?” but he didn't want to push it, instead crouching over Zayn and kissing him, reacquainting himself with the sweet taste of Zayn's tongue before cupping his hand to his own mouth, spitting into it and coating his dick with his saliva. Harry took a deep breath before positioning himself above Zayn's entrance, looking up at Zayn with worried eyes.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked. Zayn nodded, rolling his eyes. “Are you _sure_?”

“Why wouldn't I be, Harry?” Zayn asked and Harry grinned, pushing into Zayn slowly, biting back a groan at how tight and perfect Zayn was around him. Zayn closed his eyes and breathed into it, his eyes fluttering as Harry breached him. Harry waited until he had pushed flush into Zayn before kissing Zayn once more, rocking his hips against Zayn's ass. Zayn brought his arms back to rest around Harry's neck, returning the kiss with a filthy twist of his tongue, sighing sweetly as Harry worked him open until Harry was fucking into Zayn hot and quickly, Zayn's cock bobbing between them. Zayn pulled away from Harry's mouth, bared his neck, reached to grab his dick, and cried out as he came, the sound of his voice sounding like the most beautiful prayer. The entire woods seemed to sing with them, a sort of magic that Harry had never witnessed, and it was then that Harry understood what Niall had been talking about, about angels being almost painful to look at, because Zayn's skin seemed to glow with his pleasure, the energy that had been radiating from him focusing so that it only thrummed between he and Harry. Harry had never been a participant in something so powerful, didn't know that a human could be privy to such an amazing and unbelievable work of nature, and Harry's orgasm was wretched out of him like a cannon, the whole world tilting and going white before he realized what had even happened. And even then, the world still seemed to sing, the woods rejoicing their meeting.

 

Harry was almost in a daze the rest of the walk home, Zayn and Harry taking turns every few hours to fuck the other senseless. Harry was so sated and pleased by the time he crossed the hill overlooking the Tomlinson meadow that he almost didn't want to go home, wanted to stay lost in those heavenly woods forever.

“Zayn – ” Harry started, turning to ask Zayn just that, if Harry could live out the rest of his life in Zayn's woods, but Zayn was already gone, vanished into thin air just as angels are wont to do.

Harry had never felt so alone in his life.

 

“He'll come back,” Niall had said once they were finally reacquainted. Most of the squires who had scattered made their way back to Louis' property, Harry being one of the last stragglers. Fortunately, none of the others had been dumb enough to wander into the woods occupied by a two-legged dragon. “That was the part of the story I couldn't tell you.”

“What do you mean?”

Niall shrugged and shoved a handful of nuts into his mouth. “Once an angel saves you, they're bonded to you. It's strange, a part of their fate once they interfere in human affairs – I'm not entirely sure I understand how it works, even now. But there's a sort of magnetism there. Liam had to wait until I wasn't a boy anymore before he could come see me with any regularity, and he says that one day he'll take me away, back to the Southern Realm that's his home. But your angel, your Zayn – he'll be back. It'll be on his terms, just like everything else, but he'll be back. It  _is_ the ultimate blessing, just like me dad said. You'll see.”

Harry sighed and tried not to be too optimistic, but that night, when he heard a laugh that sounded like wind chimes off in the distance, Harry let himself smile, and hope, as he fell asleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
